


Party Like A Rockstar

by God_of_Insanity, obsidians



Category: Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Genesis Rhapsodos, Bottom Sephiroth, Bottom Zack, Cloud/Genesis Love Scene, Co-Written, Committed Relationship, Eventual Angeal/Zack, F/M, Gay Marriage, Harmless Pranks, Implied Het Relationships, M/M, Mentions of Past Attempted Rape, Mentions of Past Overdosing, Mostly Comedy With Sides of Smut, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Romantic Comedy, Some slight angst maybe, Tags May Change, Top Angeal, Top Cloud Strife, Top Vincent Valentine, Vin/Seph Love Scenes, m/m - Freeform, mentions of past relationships - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-10
Updated: 2017-05-10
Packaged: 2018-10-30 06:40:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10871205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/God_of_Insanity/pseuds/God_of_Insanity, https://archiveofourown.org/users/obsidians/pseuds/obsidians
Summary: Being a hard-working soldier, all Angeal wants is some peace and quiet after a long, hard day of work. Unfortunately for him, he lives in a condo next to Zack, a famous young rock star who often throws loud parties all night and well into the morning. Over time, the feud between them, one involving numerous pranks from both ends, becomes something more.





	Party Like A Rockstar

**Author's Note:**

> Another collaboration between Sid and I. It's more comedy than anything else, with smut here and there. She wanted to try a different pairing, one that didn't involve/focus on Sephiorth for once, so we decided on Angeal/Zack. Of course, she enabled me again with Vin/Seph (I don't ask or push for it, but she knows me well and knows I love my OTP, bless her) so there's some of that goodness here and there, along with some Cloud/Genesis. This story was fun to write and is written mostly for the comedy, and we hope you enjoy this insanity we have created.
> 
> I'm just adding to this as a disclaimer. If you watch Bleach and think that the description for Reggie sounds like a lot like Renji Abarai, this is no accident. This character is based on him, God of Insanity knows how I'm drawn to redheaded characters in anime/games and allows me to indulge it. Sid.

It was late at night when Angeal arrived at his condo home after a long, grueling day of dealing with countless problem after problem at work. Being a high-ranking officer in the military with a lot of responsibility weighing down on his shoulders, he couldn’t exactly leave until everything was accounted for, all paperwork done, and the men under him properly evaluated and dismissed. Some expensive equipment had ended up going missing, which had to be tracked down before anyone could go home. After hours of everyone fruitlessly searching, Angeal was about ready to tear out handfuls of his dark hair when he stumbled over said equipment sticking out of one of the custodian closets.  Apparently, someone had placed it in there thinking that they could store it there until they had deemed it safe to steal. Thankfully, everything was then accounted for; however, it still took a long time to track down and deal with the thief. All in all, it had been a horrible day and Angeal was just glad it was over with.

Stopping in front of his door, Angeal exhaled deeply like a man admitting defeat when he noticed the bright, lewd graffiti painted all over his front door. Squinting his eyes, he tried to make out what the image was, but couldn’t tell whether it was a man or woman, which wasn’t entirely his fault since he was sleep deprived. Whatever it was, it was in a provocative, ‘ _I want you’_ pose that looked like something that would be sprayed on the wall outside some seedy club. Later he would come to realize the image was of a man wearing golden pasties, thong, and an elaborate, festive headdress that made him look like he was a participant of the annual Costa del Sol Carnival.

“ _Genesis_ ,” mumbled the soldier, shaking his weary head at the thought of the culprit who had most likely _decorated_ his door once again. Unlocking his door, he slowly opened it and trudged inside before falling face first into his big bed without bothering to unmake it first or even to undress himself from his disheveled uniform. Tired eyes slid shut as he drifted into a blissful sleep only to be awoken literally a minute later by blaring heavy metal music that blasted obnoxiously from the other part of the condo. His bloodshot eyes ripped open at the noise and he growled, rolling onto his back as he covered his ears. He had half a mind to drag himself from bed and march over there, but couldn’t spare the energy to get up at the moment. Not to mention the effort would probably had been futile anyway since his neighbor didn’t seem to care about condo rules, or about anyone else living there for the matter.

Blindly smacking at his bedside table, he knocked his alarm clock off and a glass of water until he finally managed to find and jerk the drawer open. Without lifting his head to see, the exhausted man rummaged around in the drawer until he had found some of his spare ear plugs. Slipping one into each ear canal, he next grabbed his MP3 Player and headphones, which luckily had been strategically placed beside him on the bed. Sliding the headphones on, he pressed play and then turned the volume up loud enough to drown out the heavy metal. Fortunately for him, he was tired enough to fall asleep and this tactic usually worked, admittedly only temporarily since he knew he would wake up a couple of hours later anyway. When that happened, he’d deal with the problem then. For now, he intended to salvage what little sleep he could manage to get until he had to drag his tired ass out of his bed and home just to knock on that punk’s door and demand the boy to lower the volume of what, eh, he seemed to believe was music.

Angeal startled awake as even his earplugs failed to drown out the loud sound of _Clair De Lune_ being played at full volume on his own earphones and yanked them from his head. He turned it off and sighed and rubbed his exhausted eyes. He had gotten little sleep, not half as much as he needed but got out of bed, still wearing his rumpled uniform. He got undressed and dropped his soiled clothes in his hamper and dimly remembered going to pound on his neighbour's door and imploring him to lower the volume. Zack had answered the door dressed as Angeal deduced in what must be his stage wear of leather pants and a vest with nothing underneath and sunglasses. He had given him his trademark smirk, looking rather drunk or stoned, or perhaps both and had given Angeal the finger and slammed the door in his face to muffled laughter from inside his unit. Angeal had had the urge to return to his condo unit and return with his gun but refrained and returned to bed with earplugs and soothing classical music played at high volume to drown out the caterwauling coming through the wall next to his and threatening to remove the stucco from his ceiling. 

He had a cold shower in order to wake himself up while coffee brewed in his now blissfully silent place and blessed whoever had been considerate enough to turn off the music. He combed out his hair and regarded himself in the mirror, finding it hard to believe he was pushing forty. He had just turned thirty-five and felt ancient. Yet he looked young for his age.

He wore his hair long for military standards, to his shoulders and combed straight back from his widow’s peak, his sideburns were styled to sharp points and he wore the slightest scruff of a beard on his chin. Otherwise he was smooth shaven. His eyebrows were thin and fine, almost delicate and arched over his stern looking slate blue eyes. His face was broad and masculine and people claimed it could have been formed of granite. He had been told he looked very intimidating when not smiling with his tall stature and broad muscular body. He was handsome in a rugged way and certainly had never been a pretty boy.

He thought without vanity that he was aging well, he had hardly changed even in his mid-thirties. A healthy diet, strict self-discipline and a lifetime of military exercise kept time at bay.

He got dressed in a fresh uniform and opened his door and setting the towels down, got a bucket and his cleaning rags out and washed his door free of the latest image that Genesis had "blessed" him with.

Having a good look at it, free of the fog of sleep, he realized it was a rather good likeness to himself. He was grateful the graffiti artist at least used washable paint for his pranks. The first time Angeal had blushed and then panicked when faced with a very lifelike image of himself naked on all fours, while being serviced at both ends by two man shaped, well hung horse furry cartoons. He was about to run out to buy everything he needed to resurface his door when his tentative touch easily scraped away some of it. So, he discovered that it did no damage to anything but his pride as his neighbours walked by emitting muffled giggles as he sponged his door free of the offensive images.

His door now back to normal, he surveyed the hall for damage and found it remarkably clear save for a lady's thong hung on the door. He sighed and went to make breakfast and caught sight of a picture of himself with Reggie, he sighed again, missing his ex-lover.

They had tried long distance dating when Angeal was transferred but it hadn't worked out. Reggie had gotten lonely and met someone else. He hadn't deceived him, he just explained what had happened. They remained in contact as friends regardless. In the photo, Angeal and Reggie were standing under a tree decorated with fall colours and both wore light coats and had an arm around each other while smiling for the camera.

Angeal missed him, Reggie was a military officer too and was muscular, but was slighter with long, lithe limbs. He had pale skin with long dark red hair. Black tribal tattoos adorned his forehead and flowed down his neck to decorate his arms and shoulders. A matching design started just below his sternum and flowed down his ribs. This much tattooing was uncommon for a military man but he was a great officer. How he missed his lover with his black tattoos that Angeal liked to trace after they made love and his thin-lipped smile and flashing dark eyes.  Angeal, people described as being as being serious and stoic until his more humorous side came out, Reggie was the life of the party with his biting sense of humour that was funny but never cruel.

Realizing it was early yet, Angeal spent a good half an hour pruning his beloved bonsai trees, liking how this always calmed his nerves. Then realizing it was almost time to report for duty, he opened a closet and lugged out the huge old speakers that he had found at a garage sale.

The man had assured him they worked perfectly and he had used them for DJing gigs and could easily blast sound at a busy nightclub. At any rate, they were large and black and would have made a teenager wanting a pair for his rumpus room cry with envy.

Angeal hooked them up in place of his usual mini speakers to his stereo system and inserted a CD and put it on the loop setting after he positioned the speakers flush against the shared wall. He then hooked the whole thing to a light timer and set it between the hours of nine AM to five PM when you were allowed to make noise according to the condo rules and left.

He paused to find out that someone had hung up a poster for his neighbour's band, _Loveless_ , on the condo wall outside their building. They were a pretty boy death metal band that wore predominately denim and leather while they smirked with their arms crossed in front of a graffiti painted alleyway in the poster. Angeal had no doubt as to who had painted it, it being similar in style to the drag queen Costa del Sol Carnival performer Angeal on his own door from earlier.

Their names and positions in the band came to him very easily as he studied them. Positioned in the middle was the lead singer, Vincent Valentine, his nearly pretty face almost arrogant as he glared out a challenge through blood red eyes.

To his right was Sephiroth Crescent, the lead guitarist and backup singer, who was also Vincent's boyfriend. He was also pretty, but more muscular than Vincent with preternatural pale skin, who normally wore contacts on stage that gave him green cat eyes.  He also had straight silver hair worn past his ass that would have made a military barber cackle with glee.

Beside him was Zack Fair, who was closer to Angeal, himself body-wise but not nearly so broad, his dark hair a cross between a floppy Mohawk and a spikey pompadour, bright blue eyes and his full lips in a cruel-pretty smile. He played bass guitar.

To Vincent's left was Cloud Strife, a pretty boy, blue eyed blond with spikes in his hair and a compact, but well-muscled body. He was the drummer. Last but not least, was Cloud's boyfriend, Genesis Rhapsodos. He was a tall, slenderly built muscular man with bright red hair worn in a razor cut to his shoulders and blue eyes. Who favoured the colour red in terms of leather and other clothing and wore earrings. He played keyboard and did the art for the band.

Angeal ripped it down in disgust. He had wondered why the previous condo owners were selling the place for so cheap and his realtor promised him a quick closing. She failed to disclose to him that a Loveless member who loved to party lived right next door and would frequently invite _everyone_ home after a concert who cared to come. Of course, everything had been shown and arranged during daytime hours when said party monster was sleeping. He had had to find that out after he moved in with a purchase and sales agreement and mortgage to be paid.

The first time they had partied, he had ignored it and slept with his head buried under his pillow.

The next night he had slipped a polite note under Zack's door. Angeal had found it pinned to his own door with a knife and ludicrously, there was a one hundred gils bill pinned to the back with the number of a handyman to call to come fix the gouge in his door.

He then had taken to calling security, who would show up, the music would go down, they would leave and it would go back up again. Until the overweight, middle aged man was up and down to their floor like a yoyo and Angeal feared for his health at having to exercise so much. So he started calling the cops, to the same end.

Angeal had finally tried to get rid of his neighbour, assuming he was renting, by taking him before the condo board. They couldn't do anything when it turned out that he owned the place, paid his mortgage and maintenance fees on time and kept his condo insurance up to date. 

After that, it was like the band had a vendetta against Angeal.

It started in silly ways, red dye being dumped into a load of his regulation light tan shirts in the building washing machine, turning them pink and effectively ruining them.  Angeal had quickly learned to do his laundry offsite. Then the pranking turned more serious but not to the point anything was really damaged or his life threatened, it was annoying for sure though.

The worst part was that Angeal felt he would have become friends with them under different circumstances if they didn't practice in Zack's condo unit or party so much. They did seem like a nice bunch of guys despite the obviously fake stage names and paint on clothes.

He had even aided them when Genesis had almost overdosed on cocaine one night and Angeal had been summoned to his aid. He had used his commanding voice to keep the crowd that ranged from, barely legal teens up to people in their late twenties calm, while he walked the man around the room to keep him awake. While waiting for the ambulance, and while attempting to reassure to his distraught boyfriend that Genesis would be fine. 

Angeal had gleaned that they had been discovered and signed to a record label a couple of years before and they had pretty much gotten famous overnight. Before that, they had all worked menial jobs like construction or delivery jobs while waiting to be discovered.

They had all been friends since their early teens, having met at band camp of all places. Sephiroth had come to the aid of a much younger and scrawnier Cloud, who was getting picked on for being gay. Cloud had been told by Sephiroth that he was, too. Cloud had introduced him to his band friends, who had bonded over all of them being gay and over a love of music. They had been tight ever since, choosing a much darker sound then during their band camp days when they decided to form a band.

Angeal smiled as he thought of his latest prank; they could order twenty pizzas to be delivered to his place. Or a topless dancer wearing a gorilla costume with holes cut in it to expose her breasts and put all the embarrassing art work on his door they wanted; Angeal could give back as good as he got.

It was silent in Zack Fair's condo as he and his friends slept off the effects of the night before. The barely used alarm clock beside Zack's bed flicked from 8:59 to 9:00 AM, when the unholy banshee wails of bag pipes played at hellish volumes split the peace of the slumbering males.

With a wild jerk, Zack plummeted out of his bed, limbs flailing wildly in distress before he landed face down. He hissed in pain when his face smacked against the carpeted floor. Sitting up quickly, he cursed loudly from the way his throbbing head spun from the pain of the blow and not to mention his nasty hangover. Rubbing his face, he cursed again from that wretched noise that was making his head pound in so much agony that he nearly puked on the spot. Stumbling up onto his feet, he ripped the sheet away from his half-naked body so that he could march out of his door. On the way to his room door, he tripped over one of his shoes in his messy, pigsty of a room that looked like it belonged to a teenager, not to a grown man nearing thirty. Unfortunately for him, his face landed right into an opened box of day old four-meat pizza. As if cockroaches had crawled into his ear, he lurched away and grabbed the closest cloth he could, which was an old, dirty sock. The moment he wiped his face off with it, he regretted it instantly due to the foul, unforgiving odor. The nausea escalated so quickly that he hunched over and spewed the contents of his stomach, which was mostly alcohol and pretzels, all over his floor until he passed out.

Meanwhile, in the living room, Zack’s friends slept undisturbed until the cacophony of noise smashed in through the walls as if the music was playing right there in the room with them. On the couch slept Vincent on his back with his boyfriend, Sephiroth, sleeping on top of him like a big, old lion. The lead singer was undisturbed by the noise that blared since when he slept, he was pretty much dead to the world. Only a few things could successfully wake him up which was his weird, old-fashioned horror ringtone, ice water being dumped on him, or his boyfriend going down on him. He didn’t even twitch when Sephiroth buried himself under his crimson T-shirt, hiding his face from the pesky light that filtered through the room until it had struck him in the face. In the process, a good amount of his pale skin was exposed, which revealed the many splotchy love bites littered all over his skin. Whenever Sephiroth was drunk, he became increasingly frisky and affectionate and would harmlessly mark Vincent all over any available skin while palming the shorter man’s crotch. He would always attempt to open his lover’s tight, denim black pants to pull his dick out, but Vincent always stopped him and brought him up for a make out session. Even though they were in love, Vincent never felt right about having sex with him since he couldn’t consciously consent due to being drunk. Unlike everyone else, Vincent would only have a glass or two of red wine and never got drunk. Maybe a bit buzzed, but not enough to dilute his senses or judgement. He rather enjoyed their drunken antics and preferred to be the designated driver and, ahem, _babysitter_. Ever since the night Genesis nearly died and another night where a fan attempted to take advantage of an inebriated Sephiroth, Vincent had sworn he would always keep a vigilant eye on them and especially on the one he loved most. To think if security hadn’t walked in at the right time to intervene…his man would have suffered something truly horrific and permanently traumatizing. In his sleep, the raven-haired man frowned and then blindly entwined his arms around the larger body as if checking to make sure he was still there, even in his sleep. Feeling the familiar warm, shirtless body of his boyfriend, he relaxed enough for the frown to melt off of his face completely. 

Sephiroth, on the other hand, cursed loudly from the atrocious sound that had disturbed him from his slumber. He buried even deeper in his man’s shirt and buried his face in his hairless chest as if that would block out the aberrant, distasteful noise. Unfortunately, it didn’t protect him from the cacophony of horrible noise that tried to pass itself off as music. Aquamarine eyes with normal pupils reluctantly opened to face the annoying, appalling world that he was tempted to rend into many pieces. More specifically, he wanted to get up and hunt down that irritating man responsible for his disrupted sleep and the migraine wrenching his brain apart.

“Fucking Angeal,” swore the silver-haired guitarist as he ever mindful of his sleeping beau, gingerly pushed himself up and off Vincent so that he was merely straddling him. Glancing around, his sleepy eyes a sharpening glare, he spotted a clearly awakened Cloud and Genesis tangled together under the coffee table, looking just as peeved and pissed off as he was.

“Maybe if you do that, he’ll turn off this bloody noise,” loudly complained Genesis as he rolled out from underneath the table, his auburn hair a wild mess he’d freak out about later on. His words were barely heard over the blaring of the madness that tormented them all so, save for that lucky bastard, Vincent. He’d have to find out later how that man was able to sleep through such hell, that’s for sure.

Cloud crawled out from under the table, his clothes rumpled and hanging off his compact body. It was obvious from the look of it that both Cloud and Genesis had probably had some type of sexual relations under that coffee table, or somewhere else. Either way, the pair had ended up underneath the table, protected from the bright, harsh sunlight that sliced through the room mercilessly. Grunting, the blond snorted. “Yeah, good idea, Gen…have Vince go to jail for murdering that ass. He’s our lead singer…not to mention a depressed Sephiroth is far worse than a homicidal one…” Then Cloud shuddered at the memory of a younger Sephiroth isolated in his room for weeks starving himself and not showering. When he had come over to check on him, it had been horrible to sit there as the heartbroken boy sobbed all over him. Thank god for Vincent swooping to the rescue and dragging the depressed teen out of his room.

If Sephiroth weren’t suffering so and wasn’t so damn irritated, he might have laughed at their jokes. Instead, he glared at both of his friends and fellow bandmates as he hissed, “Send Zack in my stead.”

As if sensing their conversation, Vincent had awoken, slowly rising up into a sitting position with Sephiroth in his lap. His arms slid down over the other man’s bare back until both of his hands came to rest on the guitarist’s ample, yet firm ass. He didn’t say anything, but his accusing, none too pleased glare rested on Genesis. The lead singer never appreciated sexual jokes at his lover’s expense and especially didn’t like Sephiroth being joked about as if he were some escort. After witnessing Sephiroth’s broken heart and knowing the man had nearly been raped at some point, he was very protective and sensitive over such subjects even if Sephiroth tried to play it off though the man clearly still had nightmares about being raped.

As if reading their minds, Zack strode stiffly into the living room, cursing angrily as he used toilet paper to rid himself of the pizza grease and vomit that clung unpleasantly to it. Once he was satisfied that most of it was gone, he ripped open his front door and marched over to Angeal’s door. With as much strength and anger as he could muster, he banged on the door for several minutes. When no one answered the door, he stormed back into his place and searched for his phone until he found it underneath a few empty beer cans. Wiping the slightly wet phone off on his pants, he angrily dialed Angeal’s number.

“I don’t know where the fuck you are, but you better get your geezer ass back here and turn off that shit you’re trying to pass for music!” Loudly demanded the dark-haired bass guitarist as he paced back and forth in his trashed living room. The singer had to press his phone hard against his ear while he shouted into his phone just so he could faintly hear Angeal’s responses. He didn’t seem to notice the three pairs of eyes that silently watched him. Had they not been suffering from hangovers, his bandmates would have been laughing and teasing him endlessly without fail. 

The line was mostly silent except for some muffled laughter that did nothing but piss the musician off even more. Angeal’s unmistakable baritone, full of mirth, responded, “Don’t worry, kid, it’ll turn off around…oh, I’d say _1700 hours_.”

“ _When_ the fucking hell is 1700 hours?” Blankly asked Zack, who knew nothing about military time nor did he particularly wish to learn. He just wanted to know exactly when the noise would end and then, then he could _peacefully_ plot out his revenge.

“Use Google, kid,” Angeal advised as he shook his head while he drove into his usual parking spot. He then shut off his car and added, “Sorry, I have to go. Some of us work _every_ day for a living, kid.” And then he ended the call, put his phone on silent, and headed into his building while humming the same exact song that was currently tormenting those little punks.

Zack lowered his phone, his dangerously pretty face livid with anger. "That old assed mother fucker is **NOT** going to get away with this," he declared, flinging his phone onto a chair as he raked his fingers through his disheveled hair, making it look even more like it had been attacked by an eggbeater. Mad, he flung himself down on the chair and winced when he sat on his phone. Fishing it out, he tried to shove it into the pocket of his skinny jeans but it wouldn't go in due to his current position. So, he just put it onto his coffee table. "We have to think of some kind of revenge," he had to all but shout at his friends to make himself be heard.

"Unless you know how to pick a lock, I suggest we go elsewhere!" Vincent shouted back.

"I'll say, this so-called music is making my hangover even worse and you have no idea what disgusting things lurk under Zack's coffee table; Cloud and I should probably get shots," Genesis loudly complained.

"If you're so concerned about my lack of housekeeping skills..." Zack said putting his hands on his hips.

"Enough, we need silence, coffee and to get cleaned up. To the Batcave," Vincent declared and made a phone call to have someone meet him there.

Their Batcave was actually their recording studio that included sleeping quarters for each couple...and Zack, in case they worked late or just didn't feel like commuting home and had shower facilities. They had hastily cleaned up at Zack's before piling into their cars to depart. All of the band members were gearheads with an appreciation for vintage cars. Vincent drove a 1962 four door, gloss black Corvette convertible with the image of a howling demon in red on the hood of his car. Sephiroth had a 1974 matt black Fiat Spider, but preferred to have Vincent drive him around.  Vincent on examination of the other couple, he declared that Cloud was sober enough to drive Genesis' black and candy apple red 1956 hearse with silver skull hood ornament. Cloud having left his own souped-up black motorcycle at home in favour of having Genesis drive them to their concert.

She was waiting for them when they walked in; she eyed them with amusement and gave them a fond smile. She was twenty-eight and dressed like she could be a band member in her black leather skirt adorned with a heavy belt, white cropped top with suspenders and black leather gauntlets covered with burgundy fingerless gloves. She was petite with long dark brown hair that fell past her waist. She was slender but was very busty for her small frame.  She walked forward and put her arms around the lead singer and pressed her lips against his in a way that no one else on the planet would dare do in front of his boyfriend and live to tell the story. Giving him a peck on the lips and receiving a hug, she examined his bloodshot crimson eyes and then stepped back and embraced Sephiroth, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "Rough night, bro? You have to feed your boyfriend more, he's nothing but skin and bones," she commented.

"My weight is perfectly adequate for my height, Tif," Sephiroth groused and hugged her back. He wasn't the cuddly sort with anyone but Vincent for the most part, but was long used to his lover's twin sister's touchy feely ways and had a soft spot for her. All the members had adopted her as a sister having known her so long. She collected hugs from the rest of them but winced a bit at Zack's scent.

"It smells like someone could use a shower," she commented.

"We all could," Vincent said, studying her; she was normally mistaken as his girlfriend more than as his twin. Through some genetic anomaly, they had both received red eyes, though his were closer to crimson and hers were garnet in colour. She was the personal assistant to the band and literally ran their lives, to keeping their calendars, arranging payroll and paying fines, making sure they got to concerts on time, and to literally bailing them out of jail if she had to. She was as levelheaded as her brother and was actually a certified accountant who oozed efficiency and had been chosen for her role because she was like family to them and genuinely cared about them.  They had known her most of their lives, had had to approve of boys before she was allowed to date them in high school. They all had told her prom date that her curfew was eleven and he was allowed a kiss on the cheek from her in parting and they had made her husband, Rufus, jump through many hoops to prove himself worthy to marry her.

"Coffee and Tylenol first," she said, taking out a tray of coffees, knowing how each person took theirs.

"Tifa, if only you were a man," Zack said, groaning in appreciation of his first sip as he popped the pills into his mouth. They had all made a pact to give up all drugs but alcohol since Genesis's near fatal OD. So, snorting a few lines and going about their day was no longer an option. Hangovers meant: coffee, lots of water, over the counter painkillers and sleeping off as many miserable hours as they could.

"Well, sorry, Sugar. I do love you, but can't love you the way you like without a strap-on," she teased him.

"Tifa, can I use your computer after we get cleaned up?" Genesis asked her.

"Knock yourself out," she said.

Each man showered and changed, always having spare clothes with them wherever they went. Partying was hazardous on clothes and fans could easily rend and rip them. Sephiroth had just changed, opting to shower at home in the gray brick house he shared with his boyfriend.

Zack was the final one to emerge from the shower, looking much cleaner but still the worst for wear and found everyone crowded around Tifa's computer while a cackling Genesis spliced Angeal's head onto a porn star's body. "You have the proportions all wrong, Angeal's body is much brawnier," he commented. "Angeal's body is more like this guy’s and he's closer to him in skin tone."

"Exactly how long have you been studying the old guy?" Sephiroth asked, eyeing him speculatively.

"He normally uses the gym in our building around the same time as me," Zack said with a blush to remember how Angeal had taken his shirt off while using weights, it had been an _interesting_ sight.

"He's cute," Tifa said, eyeing the photos that Genesis had surreptitiously snapped of him in order to get his likeness for art work "projects."

"For an old guy," Genesis commented as he spliced the head into the image selected by Zack.

"He's what, in his mid-thirties? That's not much older than you guys are. I would even go as far as to say; he's hot," Tifa declared.

"It's ready!" Genesis interrupted. Everyone burst into laughter as they looked at the image. It featured Angeal's face on top of a very muscular, well hung man in a suggestive pose wearing leather chaps. "Okay, I guess the ad should read: Sergeant Sexy, frisky sub bottom willing to indulge in every pleasure known to man, including gerbil play, scat, foot fetishes...what others should we include?" He asked them. They all grinned as they supplied the worst ones they could think of and submitted the ad to a gay hookup site that specialized in BDSM and fetishes, along with Angeal's private PHS number.

Angeal was sitting at his desk doing follow up paperwork on the potential theft of equipment from the night before, when his phone rang. "Angeal," he said without preamble. "Sergeant Sexy? You must have called the wrong number. I'm a General. What? No, I don't want to lick your boots, tall, shiny or otherwise! He snapped and disconnected. He frowned when he got a similar one a few minutes later and another and another, each sexual suggestion worse than the last until he was blushing like a school girl. 

Reggie was online browsing through some gay fetish sites. Not that he was unhappy at home with his new boyfriend, he just had a slight kink and that was to see handsome males in black leather. His boyfriend knew and encouraged him to peek at them all he wanted. It got him hot and bothered and that came home with him. He frowned when he stumbled upon a new ad. "Angeal?" He breathed and then broke into peals of laughter and picked up his PHS to call his ex.

"Sir, I do _not_ wear a saddle for anyone and you most certainly may _not_ ride on my back!” Angeal said hotly. "I'm getting another call, bye," he said, his face tomato red. "What, do you want me to sniff your butt while dressed as a white poodle? Perhaps suck your toes?" He snapped into the phone.

"I would settle with you allowing me to use your spare bedroom in a couple of weeks’ time. I have business in your area and thought you wouldn't mind me visiting," Reggie drawled into his phone.

"Reggie, sorry, I have been getting the weirdest phone calls for hours now," Angeal apologized.

"Well, that's what happens when your ad is the top featured ad on a BDSM/fetish website," Reggie explained. "Have you started a new career as a male escort?"

" _Genesis_ ," Angeal growled. "That has nothing to do with me. It's regarding my current living situation. Things are a little tense at the moment. I shall take care of it. I would love for you to visit if you don't mind music that sounds like a sack full of cats being slammed repeatedly into a wall.”

"Colour me intrigued, I'll e-mail you the details of my trip," he said.

"I must return to work myself," Angeal said and hung up after saying goodbye. His phone rang again. "No sir, I do not own a bird costume nor would I be willing to eat shrimp out of your navel!" He snapped before disengaging and turning off his phone.

 He logged into his e-mail. "Take the ad down **now**!" He e-mailed to Genesis.

Genesis e-mailed him back the same picture with a donkey added to the background and all of them laughed. "Okay, he'll be able to have it taken down eventually; our work here is done," he said.

"I think that you and I should go home and get some shut eye," Cloud suggested, placing his hand possessively on his shoulder.

"I agree, my head still aches despite Tifa angelically nursing us. Let's go home," Genesis said standing up and relinquishing the computer back to Tifa. 

"I would hate to have you guys as enemies. Don't get into trouble," she chided them.

"It's harmless fun, he's a nice enough guy," Vincent explained to her, putting his arm around his tired looking mate. "I think you need a nap too," he suggested.

"Sounds like a plan," Sephiroth agreed. "Who's giving Zack a ride home?"

"I am," Tifa said. "He's in the worst shape of the lot of you. He can sleep here while I do some work, he can't go home until 17:00 hours when the noise ceases anyway. If that's okay with you, Zack."

"Works for me, what is 17:00 hours anyway?" He asked with a yawn as he remained and the rest left with their respective boyfriends.

"Five o'clock, you get some rest and I'll take you to get a bite to eat before dropping you at home," she promised him.

"You're so nice. You're all so nice to me. I don't deserve any of you," he said and started sobbing and she realized he was still drunk and was glad he hadn't driven his maroon 1957 Chevy pickup over to the studio. Zack was an emotional drunk. She hugged him and held him until his tears subsided.

"I'm sorry, I miss him," he sniffled when he backed away from her. She frowned at this, knowing he meant his on again, off again ex-boyfriend, Reno. They had been together since Zack was twenty-one and were currently broken up, yet again because Reno had met a guy he liked named Rude. Reno was the love of Zack's life.

Tifa knew that Zack had envied the others for their long-term committed relationships and had tried to have that with the always disheveled, lanky redhead, who she considered to be little more than a slut.

After Reno had left him, Zack had drifted into a series of one-night stands with shallow pretty boys who only wanted the prestige of fucking a celebrity and constant partying to stave off his loneliness. Zack was the sort of man who hated being alone, Tifa and the others tried to be there for him, but there was only so much they could give him. They had their own lives as well.

"You'll find a nice, stable man who is worthy of you, Zackaroni," she said, calling him by an ancient nickname she had for him.

"I wish I could," he said trudging to his room and had soon drifted to sleep to the sound of Tifa typing efficiently at her computer.

Cloud waited for Genesis to undress and pulled his naked body flush with his own so they were chest on chest. Genesis leaned down and kissed him and he responded to that. "Cloud, I shall give you whatever you want later when we wake up. I need some rest," he said, grinning at him.

"I just wanted to hold you like this for now. We get so little time alone these days," he commented getting under the covers and Genesis joined him and cuddled up to him.

"We'll take some time off after the tour," he promised him.

"Remember how it used to be between us before we got famous?" Cloud asked him. "Our Sundays," he prompted him.

"You delivered pizzas and I was a door-to-door salesman. We both worked long hours and only had Sundays free. We would go to the zoo in the mornings. You could never get enough of watching the monkeys, you could stare at them for hours.  Then we would come home and spend the day making love. We would pool our money to make the finest gourmet meal we could for dinner and get out of bed long enough to make it and eat it and then go back to bed," he said.

"I wish it could be like that again," Cloud said.

"We shall make more time for just the two of us," Genesis promised him. "You'll get to see your monkeys again."

"Promise not to die on me?" Cloud asked him.

"I promise," Genesis answered the love of his life and watched as the blond fell asleep while he cradled him with his own body.

Vincent could only watch through the clear glass shower door as Sephiroth teasingly washed his body, moving the heavy mass of his wet hair around to reveal parts of himself normally obscured by it, well aware of the looks of appreciation he was receiving. 

After a few minutes, the steam built up enough to fog up the glass, which caused Sephiroth’s enticing form to become more of a blurry silhouette. Though it was harder to see him clearly, the slow, tantalizing trail of his hands against the wet skin of his body was obvious to his voyeur. He might not have been an exhibitionist in the slightest, but boy did he enjoy being watched by his lover. It excited him just as much as it excited the slighter male to watch him in intimate moments like this. He may have been drunk off his ass that night, but he still remembered how feisty he had been and knew Vincent’s morals always kept him from pouncing on him in such a state. It was fun to tease him and after a night of fighting down his arousal, Vincent’s patience would quickly snap at the slightest provocation.

Getting impatient due to Vincent still _just_ standing there watching him, he leaned back against the shower wall, spread his legs a little and slipped a hand down over his broad chest, and chiseled abdominals until it reached the fully erect, large organ that rested heavily against his stomach. The moment his hand made contact and started lazily stroking it, the shower door was ripped open without warning. Cold air billowed in followed by the naked form of his boyfriend, his crimson eyes now darkened by lust. Sliding the door shut, Vincent snagged the offending hand that dared touch what was _his_. “No touching,” he growled, glaring down at the other man’s hand as if he were jealous of it when in truth he was just sexually frustrated. He looked up at Sephiroth’s face and his expression softened when he saw the knowing smirk there. He’d wipe that stupid, sexy smirk off his face soon enough. Vincent was not in the mood for being teased since he had endured a playful, yet drunk Sephiroth marking and pawing at his body the _entire_ night. Even a Saint of a man would have had trouble attempting to resist that irresistible, flirt of a man.

Catching Sephiroth’s lips in a steamy, ardent kiss, his released his hand in favor of clamping onto both of his hips and pulled him flush against his own body. With a roll of his hips, he ground their erections together as they kissed, both men too aroused to care just how needy and wanton they both sounded moaning as they devoured each other’s mouths. Long-fingered hands slid around narrow hips to dive down and grab handfuls of a firm backside, kneading it as he used this leverage to pull the taller man closer as if they couldn’t get close enough for his satisfaction.

“Want you,” groaned Sephiroth in-between kisses, his eyes hooded and wicked lips swollen. At the moment, he didn’t particularly care _how_ they got off, just as long as it was together. If they merely rutted against each other like this until they both came, he would be satisfied enough since it was with Vincent. Hell, he could drop down on his knees right now and suck him off while jerking himself off and that’d do it for him, too. The guitarist’s ultimate kink was satisfying Vincent even if his own needs weren’t met.

Vincent had to gather enough crumbling will power just to untangle himself from that amazing, undulating body that had nearly caused him to lose control. Taking a step back, he eyed the panting man up and down appreciatively. Even now he still couldn’t believe he had such a beautiful man, inside and out, with such spirit and not to mention a rockin’ bod made for sin. Voice hoarse and raw, he ordered, “Turn around.”

It took Sephiroth a few moments to comply, but when the words were fully digested, he turned around and braced his hands against the shower wall, arms straight, back bowed, and legs spread apart. He smirked a little when he heard the sound of his lover pumping a generous amount of lubricant into his hand. Because of Sephiroth’s voracious appetite and spontaneity, Vincent had ensured that every room and even their cars had lube of some kind. Yeah, they even kept a bottle of lube in the shower since it was one of his favorite places to seduce the singer.

Vincent wasted no time prepping him and despite their mounting needs, and Sephiroth griping for him to get on with it, he didn’t rush it for fear of hurting the taller man. In the end, it was worth it when he was hunched over Sephiroth, balls deep inside his tight heat and panting harshly as he fought to control the urge to come right then and there. One of his arms snaked around him to tweak and rub at a nipple, earning a jerky buck from the quivering body he mounted. The water pounded on them as the crimson-eyed male fucked Sephiroth hard and fast, knowing full well they both wouldn’t last long since it had been a while since their last coupling. As much as they loved Zack, being around him all the time seriously dented the hell out of their sex lives.

The silver-haired man’s fingers curled against the slippery wall as he fervently pushed back, zealously enjoying how that big dick split him in two as it rammed into him at a pace that seemed to increase with each thrust and with such strength he couldn’t help crying out loudly. Each hard jab against his prostate had him throwing back his head and releasing breathy, yet harsh moans that echoed throughout the bathroom along with the sounds of slick flesh slapping lewdly together. He was lost and gone in an explosion of pleasure when slender, yet masculine fingers slipped down to wrap around his neglected manhood. The moment those fingers gripped him and tugged, his eyes rolled back and he came, hearing some scream in the distance, not knowing if it was him or Vincent, and not really caring.

When Sephiroth came down from his high, Vincent was supporting his sagging body upright as he washed him, ridding his body of every trace of alcohol, bodily fluids, and dirt. It always amazed him just how strong his lover was despite how much more leanly built he was in comparison to Sephiroth. Leaning against Vincent, he smiled blissfully like a pampered cat until the other caught on to his game.

“You’re _heavy_ , Sephiroth,” growled Vincent with no real bite to his words.

“Funny, you never say that when I’m riding your dick,” shot back Sephiroth, blowing him a kiss as he grabbed some soap and worked studiously to clean Vincent’s body as well. He laughed at the hand that slapped his hands away when he spent too much time lathering Vincent’s limp organ that had begun twitching with renewed interest.

Vincent said nothing, just smirked a little as he smacked one of Sephiroth’s butt cheeks before he stepped out of the shower to towel off. When muscular, pale arms entwined around his waist and a chin propped itself on his shoulder, he leaned back into the embrace. God, he couldn’t wait to get him into bed and tangle himself together with his boyfriend for a nice, peaceful nap. Neither man would admit it to their friends, or anyone else, but they both craved snuggling together like a pair of housecats.

“You know, they don’t mean anything by their stupid jokes,” said the guitarist as he ran his hands all over the other man’s pale chest, lazily tracing the surgery scars there that had been a result of a car accident that had nearly stolen his life. Though his malachite eyes followed his hands, he didn’t fail to notice the way the slighter male stiffened at the attention to his scars. He knew Vincent was sensitive about them like anyone would be and thought they were ugly. They definitely weren’t a pretty sight and served as a grim reminder of the life Vincent had nearly lost because of some dumb drunk driver. To Sephiroth, his boyfriend was attractive as hell, scars and all, and he loved him regardless. Winding his arms more tightly around the slightly shorter male, he sighed quietly as he basked in the feeling of their embrace.

“I don’t care, I don’t like it,” grunted Vincent as he turned around in his arms to face his content boyfriend. “If it were me someone was making fun of, you’d flip dicks.”

“There’d definitely be some broken, wired shut jaws,” agreed Sephiroth with a chuckle as he led Vincent into their bedroom after they had sufficiently dried off. As always, he pounced on the bed and wriggled under the sheets and covers, naked as the day he was born, while he impatiently waited for his boyfriend to join him.

“I haven’t forgotten how many times you were thrown in jail for fighting,” sighed the raven-haired male as he slipped into the bed and nearly squeaked when strong arms immediately seized him and pulled him under the covers for one of their cat-like snuggle sessions. Relaxing against him, he buried his face in the taller man’s neck and sighed blissfully.

“And you were tossed in jail along with me and the other guys,” pointed out the silver-haired man, chuckling a bit. “You didn’t have to join the fray, but you did. Face it, we’re all fiercely protective of each other, of our friends, my sister, and your sister.”

“I don’t think I, or any of your fangirls could live if something happened to your face,” jested Vincent in good fun although in truth, he would love him regardless of Sephiroth’s face, whether it became scarred or wrinkled over time.

Sephiroth feigned a dramatic, mock sigh before snickering. “We should get some sleep before Angeal retaliates. Knowing Muscle Daddy, he’s going to hit back _hard_ …”


End file.
